


Boys Night Out

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://sdqb.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://sdqb.livejournal.com/"><b>sdqb</b></a> 444 prompt instigate and the <a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/"><b>gw500</b></a> prompt book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys Night Out

"This way, Mr. Barton." The sergeant waved Trowa through the reception area, heading for the lock up in back. "They haven't been booked yet since the complainant is trying to decide if he really wants to press charges against two Gundam Pilots. Especially since Mr. Winner did offer to pay for the damages and compensation for loss of business."

Trowa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "What happened? Exactly? Quatre was a little vague on the phone. He just said he and Duo had been arrested and asked me to come down and bail them out."

"From what I understand Mr. Winner and Mr. Maxwell were having a drink at Sherman's Irish pub. You know the place down on 25th and Century? It's a pretty nice place. Not much in the way of trouble there usually."

"I've heard of it." From what Trowa understood, it was one of Duo's favorite hangouts, boasting a pool table, dartboards and a selection of good Irish brews and whiskeys.

"The gentlemen who we also have in custody accosted them while Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner were having a quiet drink and minding their own business. Several witnesses, along with Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner, claim that the gentlemen were asked politely to leave. When they did not do so Mr. Maxwell informed them that they needed to 'back the fuck off'. At that point one of them became aggressive and took a swing at Mr. Winner who retaliated in kind."

"Will there be assault charges pressed?" Trowa was already wondering if he should have contacted Quatre's lawyer before leaving the house. If there had been a brawl, chances were good he was going to be needed.

The sergeant snorted. "No, according to everyone but these guys, it was a clear case of self defense on Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Winner's part. We've reviewed the tapes of the security cameras and it shows the same thing. The question is whether Mr. Sherman wants to file a complaint for destruction of private property."

"What did they destroy?" Trowa frowned. Surely two good customers like Duo and Quatre warranted the replacement of a chair or two and some glasses.

Pulling his notebook from his pocket, the sergeant flipped through it and read, "two chairs, fourteen glasses, a hanging light fixture, a pool cue, one window, and a small table." He flipped the page and continued. "Two neon signs, a pool table, and one large glass mirror."

Trowa stopped, stunned, and stared at the sergeant. "They managed to destroy all /that/? Just the two of them?"

With a flip of his wrist, the sergeant closed his notebook and slid it back into the breast pocket on his shirt. "Apparently after the first punch, things turned into a bit a melee. Mr. Winner put one of the men through a window and other went into the mirror over the bar. Mr. Maxwell threw one onto a nearby table and the other one went into the signs on the wall."

"And the pool table?" Trowa wasn't sure he wanted to know, but it was like a train wreck and he couldn't look away.

"Oh that happened when Mr. Maxwell used the light fixture over it so he could kick one of the assailants. Unfortunately it couldn't support his weight and collapsed onto the pool table."

Trowa muttered something under his breath as he walked through the door, the sergeant was holding for him, into the cells. At the end of the room Quatre and Duo sat on a bench, clothing disheveled and torn. Duo's braid was coming loose and Quatre was sporting a large bruise on his cheek.

Clearing his throat, Trowa crossed the room to stand in front of the bars. Quatre's head jerked up and he grinned. "Hey, Trowa. Thanks for coming."


End file.
